Hurricane Reese Page 9

  “Ow. What was that for?” Reese had no clue how to be subtle.

  “What the hell is your problem now? This boy of mine. Such a klutz. Remember the time you broke your arm playing football?”

  Reese’s good humor vanished immediately. “Grandpa, that was Dad. He played football.”

  “Oh, that’s right. How could I forget? You were the one prancing around on the stage. Singing. This boy dragged his grandmother and me to every single one of his plays and crap like that. Piano recitals, yada yada yada.”

  “Come on, Grandpa. They weren’t all bad.”

  Their food arrived and Jude watched the two of them reminisce about Reese’s childhood performances. Jude learned that Reese had been quite the thespian in school. He’d attended UC Santa Bonita on an academic scholarship and he performed throughout his time there while he pursued a double major in Creative Writing and Theater. His singing career took off after he wrote a few hit songs for an up-and-coming pop star and she took him on tour with her. He was an overnight sensation with a hit debut album, and his life was changed forever. His song ended up in a movie, and Reese Matheson became a household name.

  Reese slipped his credit card to the server as she walked by. Jude started to protest, and Reese grabbed his thigh under the table as though it were the most natural thing for him to do—right there, in front of his grandfather. Jude looked to see if Mr. Matheson had noticed anything, but he was finishing the last few bites of his liver and onions and making satisfied noises. When Jude looked back to Reese, he was startled by what he saw.

  Pain. Sorrow. Reese had been cheery during their meal, but it seemed forced to Jude. Now he could tell for sure. Something awful must have happened with Jada. Either that or Reese had been more affected by his grandfather’s memory slip than Jude originally thought.

  Reese stood first and helped his grandfather out of the booth. The three of them slowly walked back to the car because it was obvious Mr. Matheson had overdone it. The sky was darkening much earlier since they were headed into late November. The weather would be cold soon, and as much as Jude felt uncomfortable being back in the house with Reese there, he was grateful he wouldn’t be sleeping in his car any longer.

  They pulled up to the house, and Reese helped his grandfather inside. Mr. Matheson stumbled a little on the steps, and Reese caught his weight.

  “You need to fix that step, son. It’s warped or something.”

  Several times Jude had advised Mr. Matheson that he needed to start using some sort of walking aid. A quad cane was the best idea for him to keep his balance, but he would hear nothing of it. He was a vain man, and he didn’t want to appear weak.

  Jude offered to help him get ready for bed, and Mr. Matheson was very quiet—he didn’t even make any ball jokes. Jude laid out his bedclothes and helped him with his toileting. Then he led him back to the bedroom.

  “Thanks, Jude my boy. My grandson is coming home tomorrow. Have you met him? He’s a great kid. Gayer than a fruit basket, but that’s his business, I reckon. You should meet him.”

  “I’m sure I’d like that,” Jude said as Mr. Matheson reclined on the bed. Jude covered him with the blanket and asked him if he could get anything for him.

  “I miss my wife,” Mr. Matheson said as he closed his eyes. He scrunched up his face, and a tear slid down his cheek. Jude used a tissue to wipe the tear away, and then he touched Mr. Matheson’s hand.

  “Get some rest, Mr. Matheson. Good night.”

  Jude sat on the edge of the bed until he was sure Mr. Matheson was asleep. He wiped at his own eyes and took a moment to collect himself before he went out to face Reese. He decided not to tell Reese about that memory slip. It would only make him feel worse.

  Chapter Fourteen

  REESE POUNDED on his keyboard, but the headphones contained the product of his rage so he wouldn’t disturb his grandfather and Jude. His music sounded angry and hurt, like fury and tears that refused to be denied. He wanted to sing his heart out because he knew it would help quiet his rage, but he wasn’t alone.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Jude slowly enter the garage and sit on the workout bench. He looked as distraught as Reese felt, so he finished the last few bars of the song he was working on and took off his headphones. He pulled the hair tie off his wrist and wrapped his sweaty hair up into a bun to get it out of his face, but one stubborn piece kept falling in his eyes. He blew it up and tried to smooth it behind his ear.

  “You could use a haircut,” Jude said quietly. “And a shave. And a really good night’s sleep.”

  Reese barked out a laugh, and some of the tension finally bled out. He stood from the bench and stretched out his back. Then he trudged over to the mini fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. He offered one to Jude, who shook his head.

  “I’m fine. Your grandfather is sleeping peacefully. I think he had a bit more excitement than he should have today.”

  Jude looked at him expectantly. What was he supposed to say? He really didn’t want to go into what happened with Jada. How did he tell Jude that he had sacrificed his own privacy to protect Jude’s?

  “I should leave you. I just wanted to see if you needed anything,” Jude said as he stood. He seemed unsure of himself.

  “I do,” Reese blurted out. “Please. Stay.”

  Jude lowered himself back onto the bench and waited patiently for Reese to speak.

  “I’m sorry,” Reese finally began. “I wish you hadn’t had to deal with all that earlier.”

  Jude crossed his leg over his knee and raised an eyebrow. Reese paced back and forth in front of the storage shelves.

  “Reese, you don’t have to explain anything to me.” Jude was trying to give him a way out, but Reese wouldn’t have it.

  “But I do. I don’t want you to think I fucked around on Jada. I mean, I did have a couple…. But it wasn’t what you think… I… dammit.” He stopped pacing and hung his head. “Look, Jada and I had an agreement….”

  “Reese, you really don’t need to explain anything. I’m going to—”

  “I told her to leave you out of it. I told her she could film us having a fake fight if they didn’t include you anywhere in the footage or use your name.”

  Jude stood and approached Reese. “Why would you do that? Why would you let her use you like that?”

  Reese could see Jude was angry. He wanted to reach out and touch him and hold on to him for support, but it wasn’t fair to take this any further unless Jude knew everything.

  “Because I know your privacy is important to you. I don’t care what she says about me, but I don’t want you hurt because of me. I’ve already hurt you enough.”

  “Reese, you didn’t know. What’s done is done. But I still hate for her to hurt you.”

  “I’m not hurt.” He laughed. “I’m irritated, but she can honestly do whatever she wants. Sure, I’d rather not be tabloid fodder, but I’m just happy to not have that stress. She was very high maintenance, and I guess I resented her for it. I think part of why I didn’t just move in with Grandpa in the first place was because she didn’t want that. I brought it up back then, but she was like, ‘Shouldn’t he be in a home or something?’”

  Jude narrowed his eyes. “That’s a terrible thing to say. Your lolo should stay with you. Always. Family takes care of family.”

  “Lolo?”

  “Yeah. It means grandfather. You know why my parents are in the Philippines? To take care of my lolo and lola. That’s what we do. You don’t put old people away. They’re to be treasured. My other lola lives with my uncle here. She’s got some health complications, but she’s better being with family, and my auntie is able to care for her with help from her sisters. Reese, we’ll take care of your grandfather together as long as we can. I’m here for both of you.”

  Reese didn’t know what he’d done to deserve Jude’s loyalty. He certainly hadn’t been loyal when he sent him packing. But he sighed and gave in to the urge to touch Jude once more. He lifted a f
inger to Jude’s V-neck T-shirt collar and traced the skin there. Jude let his eyelids drift shut and a small sigh escaped. But when his eyes opened, he was frowning.

  “This can’t happen under your grandfather’s roof. I may have sinned in my life, but I’m not going to do anything to hurt your grandfather.”

  Reese couldn’t help his lopsided grin. “If you were going to sin under anyone’s roof, it might as well be this one. You have heard Grandpa’s stories, haven’t you?”

  Jude rolled his eyes as Reese circled his arms around Jude’s waist. Reese was determined to wear down his defenses.

  “Reese,” Jude breathed in warning. Reese could tell Jude was warring with himself. It was enough to know that he wanted him just as badly. For now.

  “Fine,” Reese huffed. He turned and made an exaggerated groan as he approached his mini fridge. “But you have to get drunk with me. I’ll give you enough ammunition on the old man that you’ll feel violated,” he laughed. Then he pulled out two beers and handed one to Jude, who stared at it in disgust.

  “Really? You drink Sierra Nevada? Who does that?”

  Reese’s mouth gaped open in surprise. “Jude… wait, what’s your middle name?”

  “Why?”

  “Because it makes the statement stronger. Come on,” he said, gesturing with his hands. “Lay it on me.”

  “It’s Joseph. Jude Joseph De La Torre.”

  Reese’s eyes flared. “That’s a mouthful.”

  Jude raised that eyebrow, and Reese forgot exactly why they weren’t naked yet. Oh yeah, because Jude was determined to be a saint. Like his namesake.

  “Yeah, well, mouthful or not, I’m not drinking that piss.”

  “What’s your poison, then? We’re fully stocked here at Chez Matheson.”

  Jude snorted. “Don’t I know it. I almost had to dispose of it all, a while back. Mr. Matheson wasn’t fond of hearing that alcohol was a bad idea in his condition. He ranted and raved about it until I got him to agree that, once in a great while, he could have some, just not tie one on.”

  “Well, I’m going to tie one on tonight.” Reese went into the house and grabbed a bottle of Jägermeister and glasses. Then he returned to the garage humming and left the door open a crack so they could hear the old man if he needed anything.

  He set the bottle and glasses on the makeshift coffee table he’d set up in front of the old couch. It was a relic from his bachelor days. Who was he kidding? He was a bachelor once again. It didn’t feel like it, though. Not with Jude around. He wouldn’t admit it out loud for fear of chasing him off, but the idea of playing a little house with Jude was titillating. They couldn’t share a bed, of course, but knowing he was under the same roof, in the next room….

  “Feel free to get wasted,” Jude said with a laugh as Reese poured the liquor. “I’ll just have a bit. One of us needs to have their full faculties.”

  Reese handed Jude a glass and motioned for him to sit on the couch. He held up his own and cleared his throat. “A toast—to the old man and his balls. May they live in harmony and stay inside his clothes where they belong.”

  Jude clinked glasses with Reese and then sat on the couch and tossed back the shot. He made a face and licked his lips. “Wow. That’s vicious.”

  Reese laughed and poured himself another shot. “That’ll burn the hair off your balls.”

  “Not you, too. I can’t take it. No more balls.”

  Reese threw back his second shot. He coughed and stuck his tongue out. Jude laughed and stretched out a bit on the couch as the warmth from the liquor tingled throughout his body.

  “I guess he had to have some balls hanging out with Frank and the fellas… and the gangsters in Jersey where he grew up, and in Vegas.” Reese moved over to the workbench and pulled out a cigar box. He selected one, sniffed it like a pro, and wiggled his eyebrows at Jude.

  “Please tell me you aren’t going to smoke that.”

  Reese laughed. “Seems fitting to be smoking the old man’s cigars while drinking his booze. Actually the Jäger is mine. I never touch his brandy or scotch. Besides, I’m out of weed.”

  Jude dropped his head back and laughed. “You’re a mess, Reese Matheson.”

  With a little less humor, Reese said, “Yeah, well, it ain’t for lack of trying.” He pulled a lighter out of the box, lit the cigar, and puffed on it as the tip turned to orange embers. He held it out toward Jude, but Jude raised both eyebrows.

  “Nursing student, remember?”

  “And? Come on. You gotta smoke this with me,” Reese pleaded. He held it out until Jude gave up and reached forward to pluck it out of his hand.

  “I haven’t had a cigar since the last time my father was home. I don’t recall that having a good outcome. I’m pretty sure I ended up puking in the garbage can.”

  Reese watched as Jude took a small drag on the cigar and blew out the smoke. He was surprisingly smooth.

  “Nice. Not even a cough.”

  Jude handed the cigar to Reese, and then he leaned forward and poured himself another shot. “Maybe I learned my lesson last time.” He downed the shot and blew out a harsh breath while Reese puffed on the cigar and let the aroma take him back to his early years when he used to sit next to Grandpa at the piano.

  Reese walked to his keyboard and took a seat on the folding stool. He settled his fingers over the keys and began the melody for one of his favorite tunes. Jude’s body language changed instantly. He leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees, and with rapt attention, he watched Reese play.

  Reese let the words to “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” pour out and effortlessly sang the lyrics to a tune that had more meaning then than ever before. Jude tapped along with his foot and smiled with abandon. Damn, if Reese knew that was all it took, just to sing to him, he’d have been singing for days already. One song turned into several, a couple of shots turned into plenty, and Jude was right there, watching and laughing with Reese.

  “And Grandpa swears that Frank wrote that song about their adventures in Chicago. I still think he’s full of shit, but he won’t let it go. I know they were friends, and I know that the old man misses him and that life, but once he married Grandma and they moved out to the West Coast, he mainly did sessions work while he wrote his own tunes. Grandma’s money kept them living well for a long time.” Melancholy threatened to set in when the topic of his grandmother came up. He hated it when he became the sad drunk, and he refused to lay that shit on Jude. He stood from the piano and stumbled over to the couch, but he gave Jude plenty of room.

  “Jesus. I certainly achieved my goal. I’m drunk.”

  Jude laughed at him again, and his laughter came much easier after a few drinks. Reese loved his smile and the musical quality of his voice. Jude was an enigma. He had a strong build—on the slender side with the exception of thicker thighs—and his ass… well…. Reese rested his arm over the back of the couch and then rested his chin in his hand.

  “You could use sleep,” Jude said quietly. His eyes darted toward the garage door that led into the kitchen. Then he looked back at Reese. “I should—”

  “Stay. I promise. I won’t… I just need….” Reese felt incredibly buzzed and gave up trying to speak. He crawled over and rested his head in Jude’s lap before Jude could resist. His eyelids were heavy, but he didn’t want to stop staring.

  JUDE HAD no clue what to do with Reese’s head in his lap. Part of him wanted to shove him off and storm out of there, but he’d be lying if he said he wanted to be away from him. He yearned to comfort Reese because he knew Reese was suffering in so many ways.

  “Tell me a story,” Reese said in a little-boy voice that made Jude roll his eyes. Does he know how ridiculously charming he is?

  “Fine. Once upon a time, there was a prince who lived by the sea.”

  Reese smiled. “This sounds fun. Did he wear a crown?”

  Jude snorted. “More like a tiara. Okay. Maybe he was a princess.”

  Reese pinched Jude’s thig
h and made him jump.

  “Hey, do you want a story or not, princess?”

  Reese snuggled into his lap. “More.”

  Maybe it was the booze, or maybe Jude just enjoyed the playful manner they were fast adopting with each other.

  “The prince had a gift. He played the harp beautifully—”

  “A harp? What the fuck? That’s for princesses.”

  “Will you let me tell my story? I can stop right now if you want—”

  “No. Please.” Reese turned his head until his ear was resting against Jude’s belly. He smiled up at him, closed his eyes, and sighed. “Go on.”

  Jude couldn’t resist running his fingers through Reese’s golden locks. They were so many shades of gold. All the time he spent in the sun had turned his hair a color most women would pay handsomely to replicate. On Reese it was natural, just like everything about him.

  “A visiting family came to hear the prince play one afternoon, and they were spellbound—especially their son. He’d heard the prince was a spoiled brat who had everything he wanted, but he was shocked by the beautiful music the prince made. Being a soldier, the only thing the son had ever known was hard work and discipline. The music made him yearn for more.

  “The boy knew that the harp player wanted to travel the world playing his music. But the prince had a kingdom to care for, so the boy volunteered to stay behind and protect the people in exchange for the harp player’s promise that the prince would come back and play for him once he had traveled the world. Just for him.”

  Reese’s face relaxed, and a snore escaped from his nose. Jude smiled and bit his lip. Reese was beautiful when he slept. Even the angry wound on his nose, which needed to be cleaned and rebandaged soon, didn’t take away from his beauty. Jude pushed Reese’s hair away from his face and wished he could kiss away the tension still in Reese’s forehead. Sure, Jude had his own worries, but he’d always been good at planning ahead. He’d taken the month’s severance that Reese paid him and put it away for a deposit on an apartment—which he intended to get as soon as he had a full-time job. At least that’s what he planned before Reese asked him back. They still hadn’t discussed his salary, or how long, or….